#scowling about being forced to govern over lords of demons

[cicadascribbles]

One day I’ll make more fanart I swear but unfortunately there’s little gecko Teifling thing my brain made called Desmond Vassago that’s lording over my mind weather I like it or not. So here’s a doodle turned class art project of the criminal himself.

[creative-hanyou-girl]

The Witch’s Daughter (Pt.2)

Now with a cover!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha/Yahahime or any of its characters. All InuYasha characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Sunrise, and Viz media.

Genre: Family/Romance/Angst

Rated: Teen (for some cussing and depictions of violence)

A/N: First off, I want to give a big fat “Thank You” to all of you guys who left likes and reviews and for reblogging the 1st chapter of The Witch’s Daughter! I am so sorry for the long wait. A lot of stuff happened over the holidays and beyond that, and college has kept me pretty busy too. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I’ll try to be quicker with the next one!!!

I should also say that while Touga holds both these titles in the story, in this universe, the title of Emperor is not the same as the title of Inu no Taisho.

Emperor: Ruler over the people, responsible for governing the country; Sesshomaru to be successor.

Inu no Taisho: Commander and General of all armed forces, literally translating to “Great Dog General”; InuYasha to be successor.

(trust me, knowing the difference is important.)

Chapter One 

FF.Net 

With that said, on with Chapter Two!

Chapter Two

Swinging the sword in his grip at a downward angle, Lord and General InuYasha huffed in satisfaction. His sparring partner and friend, Miroku, had his own weapon knocked out of his hands as a result of the half dog-demon’s offensive maneuver, the force of the technique even toppling the human man over to land on his butt.

Scenting the approaching threat from behind, InuYasha whirled around smoothly, his blade clashing thunderously with the sword that was about to come down on him. 

This time facing off against his rival and soldier, a wolf-demon named Kouga, the two demons went at each other fiercely, weapons clashing and clanging loudly and violently at speeds that’d be impossible for a human to achieve no matter how skilled a swordsman they were. Sparks flew as the two sparring men met each other’s attacks with vigour.

Miroku, seeing an opening, grabbed his own sword and went to attack the young dog-eared general. Rushing at his seemingly unsuspecting target, Miroku’s blue eyes widened in alarm when InuYasha ducked, hunching his broad shoulders and back forward to avoid Kouga’s blade coming at him from the side. The human soldier couldn’t stop himself fast enough, resulting in him barreling atop his Lord’s back, only for said Lord to adjust his movements in order to have Miroku’s slightly smaller frame roll over the curve of his spine. 

Kouga had no time to react before his fellow soldier rammed into his stomach, losing his grip on his own sword as both he and Miroku toppled over in a heap not too gently on the marble floor. 

The two soldiers looked up at their General as he aimed his trusty blade, the Tessaiga, to be level with their eyes.

InuYasha smirked triumphantly down at his fallen comrades, his golden amber eyes dancing with victory, before swiftly shelving Tessaiga in its sheath and offering a clawed hand out to Miroku. 

Grinning and shaking his head, the human male accepted, the two friends collapsing hands as the demon lord pulled the dark-haired man up before collapsing his shoulder good-naturedly. 

Kouga grouchily climbed to his own feet once Miroku was off him, crossing his arms as he scowled at his rival, “How the Hell do you always manage to one-up us every time, dog-turd? Call me crazy, but I’d think you were playin’ dirty!”

InuYasha glared right back, “There ain’t no such thing as playing dirty on the battlefield, wolf-boy. You know that as well as I do; when you're out there facing a shit-ton of soldiers tryin’ ta lop your head off, ya don’t got the luxury of playin’ fair!”  

“Yeah well the wolf tribes know to fight with honor, unlike you and your sad excuse of an army, General,” Kouga retorted, emphasizing the word ‘general’ in a demeaning, sarcastic tone.

The aforementioned general growled, shoving his snarling face into Kouga’s, his large, clawed hand cracking as he stretched the tendons in a threatening gesture. 

He and Kouga had never gotten along ever since the wolf-demon was enlisted to serve under the Inu no Taisho’s armed forces, only to be surprised and furious when he found that the Emperor’s youngest son, a half-breed, had already taken charge of many of the imperial forces, as he was set to succeed his father in becoming the next Inu no Taisho. Under that position, he’d serve under the next Emperor, his brother, as the commander of all of their Empire’s armed forces, leading himself and his men into the battlefields while the Emperor governs the rest of the country.   

Kouga was angered to be placed in one of InuYasha’s troops three years ago when he enlisted to be under the command of the current Inu no Taisho and Emperor, Touga.

He made it very clear to InuYasha from the get-go that he was displeased to be bossed around by an ‘honorless half-bred mutt’, though he knew better than to say as such around the Emperor and his family. 

That didn’t stop the wolf-demon from expressing his disdain for his general with his fellow soldiers, many of whom also shared his bias, and to InuYasha himself when the imperial family wasn’t around. 

The feelings were mutual, as InuYasha hated the wolf’s stench and despised his high and mighty attitude. But while the half-demon lord loathed to admit it, as his father had pointed out when the two of them were overseeing recruit training, Kouga was a strong and resilient fighter, quick on his feet and great at tracking scents from miles away.

“Almost as good as you,” his father had commented.

Almost. 

Keh!

At the end of the day, InuYasha knew he’d be a fool not to enlist the canine demon just because Kouga held a prejudice against him.

Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

“Well we ain’t in the wolf tribes now, are we ya scrawny wolf!” InuYasha exclaimed back in the present.

The two canine demons continued to snarl and bark back-and-forth, until a previously forgotten Miroku shoved his way in-between the two feuding men, breaking them up after some struggle as his human body was much weaker compared to those of his demonic comrades.

“I believe it’d be wise to step away from each other for a while. We did just return from a five-month trip in the North, after all. Perhaps now’s the time to relax and take a breather after all our hard work, do you not agree?” the human male reasoned, his tone soothing and placating. 

Kouga continued to glare as he looked between the two human and half-demon men, before huffing haughtily and stomping out of the in-door combat training room.

InuYasha watched him go before snorting and going over where he stashed his red cloak and armor, stepping next to the large water basin to wash his face of the sweat and grime he’d accumulated from the return journey and the sparring match that he had just won. All the while, Miroku walked along with him, washing his face and grabbing his own gear.

As the two friends strapped back on their heavy armor over their under garments, Miroku looked over at his companion.

“You know Kouga says that stuff at this point just to get a rise out of you, right?” he asked, locking the straps for his armor to his right arm.

“Pfft. Whatever, not like it matters,” the general mumbled, clipping on his ragged and torn up cape.

“Just take a break from him and other troops, InuYasha. Use this time to spend with your family for at least a few hours! Nobody will blame you, and who knows when we’ll be sent out to fight more battles again.”

“Ain’t that simple, Miro. I ain’t no ordinary, run-of-the-mill soldier like you; I’m gonna have to become the Inu no Taisho after my father. I have ta be on my toes all. The damn. Time. Add to the fact that I’m a half-demon, and that makes my job ten times more difficult since more and more people are questioning my authority and capability to lead them into battle. I don’t got time for a break, not yet anyways,” InuYasha argued, a hint of bitterness seeping into his tone.

It had become such a sore spot for him, being a half-breed. A mutt. When he was young, while there might’ve been a whisper here and a distrustful glare there, InuYasha had been fortunate to not have had to face too much discrimination for his mixed blood, but he now knew that was due to his status in the royal family. It was only when he snuck out at age thirteen in commoner clothing that he experienced first-hand how half-demons are really treated by the outside world when they have no status of nobility or royalty.

It was horrible; he returned home hiding the bruises and scars under his clothes before they healed by themselves. He never told either of his parents.

The incident still didn’t stop him from sneaking out to explore, though.

And then he was announced to be the next Great Dog General, the Inu no Taisho, after his father when he turned sixteen, and that news shocked and appalled many in the Emperor’s court and beyond that. Everyone had expected, nay, hoped that Touga would’ve named his eldest, pure demon son Sesshomaru as both the future Emperor and Inu no Taisho, seeing as Touga himself held both titles. No one had anticipated that his younger, impure half-bred son would’ve been named as Touga’s successor to anything!

If he was being honest, InuYasha was shocked too, but he didn’t want the role. 

He’d never told his family, since he knew it’d hurt them, but the then teenage InuYasha had always hoped for a life outside of the castle walls. Even after the incident that happened when he was thirteen, the half dog-demon still wanted to go out in the world where nobody knew who he was, and explore with no obligations or responsibilities to anyone. The brief experience with the outside world when he was thirteen had opened his eyes to how fake court-life truly was, and he hated it. 

Still, seeing everybody who didn’t even know him, already doubting and questioning his capabilities in such a rigorous, brutal, and powerful position just on the basis of him being a half-demon motivated him to take up the mantle he had previously tried to avoid. 

He’d prove to them, all of them, that he was the man for the job, and that his mixed blood didn’t matter.

That was his motivation that still drove him even now.

“Enough about that. Whatta ‘bout you? S’not like your working to become General; Why dontcha go see Sango and the kids. Bet they’ve been missing their old man,” Present InuYasha said, intentionally driving the conversation away from himself.

Miroku suddenly grinned dreamily at the mention of his wife and kids, and InuYasha still couldn’t believe this was the same perverted seventeen-year-old soldier he’d met all those years ago.

They’d met when Miroku joined InuYasha when he had taken charge of overseeing his first troop of soldiers. When he wasn’t giving them orders or training them, InuYasha kept his distance from everyone in his troop as much as possible, just as everyone had kept their distance from him. 

That all changed when Miroku approached him one night when they were traveling along the Eastern borders. The human had grinned mischievously, but no less kindly with a jug of sake and had asked to talk with him.

“Just want to get to know our fearless new general, is all,” is what he had said.

From there, their friendship grew, though it took months for InuYasha to start warming up to Miroku. It didn’t help either that the young soldier had the bad habit of rubbing up along any pretty woman’s ass and asking them to “bare his children” for him, whether the woman was human or demon.

And then Miroku met Sango, a female soldier and the only woman who knew how to put him in his place. From that moment on, the perverted soldier only had eyes for the no-nonsense woman, and InuYasha watched as his two only friends grew closer and closer for the next few years, eventually getting married and having a shit-ton of kids.

Now they were awaiting baby number...eleven? Twelve? The half-demon had honestly lost count. All he knew was that they were expecting yet again, and Sango was pissed not being allowed into the troops again until the pup was born.

The kids adored InuYasha, or ‘Uncle Inu’ as the little ones and even the oldest three, Kin’u, Gyokuto, and Hisui, liked to call him, and InuYasha, in turn, adored them all right back.

 An old, but familiar lump settled in his throat. 

 He was happy for his friends. He really was, but InuYasha couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy and longing to swell up to the surface.

He wanted what they had.

He wanted love.

He wanted children.

But he’d never have any of it.

Because he was a half-breed, and half-breeds, royalty or not, never find love, real love, let alone have children.

“My Lord! My Lord InuYasha!!!” cried the familiar, but no less annoying voice of his brother’s servant, Jaken.

 The aforementioned lord sighed in aggravation as both he and Miroku turned at the squawking cry, just in time to see the small imp-demon come barreling in only to trip over himself in his haste.

“Lord InuYasha! It is important, your father needs to speak with you at this very moment! It is urgent!!!” Jaken continued on.

Both half-demon and human arched their brows in confusion, exchanging concerned looks.

“You go on back to your family, Miroku. I’ll deal with this,” InuYasha said.

“You sure?” Miroku asked, still concerned.

InuYasha simply nodded.

With that, the future Inu no Taisho with his armor fully on once more, turned and followed the panicky little demon out of the training room without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making their way through the halls leading to the throne room, InuYasha contemplated the matter Jaken had frantically informed him his father wanted to discuss.

It wasn’t unusual for Jaken to overreact over certain matters, but the half-demon had never seen the servant as panicky as he was at that moment, even during the times he’d displeased Sesshomaru. 

When he first followed after the imp-demon to the throne room where his family was stationed, the young general had briefly feared it was another marriage proposition his father had arranged for him. There had been quite a few of those over the years, all of which didn’t work out as they should have. It wasn’t necessarily that all the women the Emperor picked for him were bad choices (although there were some who were stuck-up bitches who only wanted him for the rise in status and wealth), but none of them ever seemed to...click, with him.

He could never explain it, but being with them just felt wrong.

Like he was betraying someone by doing so.

Someone who haunted him in his dreams the few times he slept, but could never identify by face or scent.

Someone he didn’t know.

Or perhaps….someone he didn’t remember.

As they got closer to their destination however, the less InuYasha began to believe the situation to be about something as trivial as matrimony. Jaken wouldn’t be reacting the way he was if it was simply about him being offered the hand of a noble woman.

The more he thought about it, the more apprehension and dread he felt in the pit of his stomach at the unknown situation that awaited him.

Stopping in front of the sliding doors separating him from the unknown, InuYasha glanced down at Jaken, who bowed in understanding at staying put outside the room. The demon lord and general huffed and slid the doors open, expecting but unprepared for the worst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s that feel, sweetheart? Is it too tight?” Kagome asked gently, wrapping the young girl’s injured arm in gauze.

Her silent patient nodded hesitantly, staring at the pretty woman treating her wound and glancing at the silent quarter-demon girl who’d saved her.

Kagome finished wrapping her up and patted the child assuringly on her back, “You're going to be just fine, little one. Now why don’t you take one of the beddings we have here and get some rest, hmm? In the morning, Moroha and I will take you back home, okay?”

The little girl hesitated for just a moment.

“...Th-Thank y-you.” she stuttered in a soft voice, averting her brown eyes shyly when the mother and daughter pair blinked in surprise.

The experienced spell-caster smiled pleasantly, nodding her head.

“You are very welcome, my dear. That’s what we’re here for, and I’m glad that you are okay.”

The child blushed, then glanced at the teenage girl still staring at her in shock, before bowing towards the teen in gratitude, which only served to shock the poor quarter-demon even more.

“...And th-thank you, too. F-for rescuing me from th-those big men,” the human girl said, keeping her upper body lowered in a bow of respect.

Moroha was beyond surprised; She was flabbergasted. Never before had anybody who wasn’t her mother thank her, much less genuinely. She was more used to people belittling and repaying her and her mother’s kindness with cruel words and actions. Yet, here this young human child was, wholeheartedly and genuinely showing them, showing her, gratitude for saving and treating her, knowing or at least suspecting very well who they were, what they were. 

The young spell-caster blushed, flustered, “K-Keh! It wasn’t a big deal; I was just passing through!” she explained, defensive.

“Yes...just passing through.”

Moroha froze at the deadly calm tone. Cringing, the teen glanced slowly at her mother, flinching at the angered glare the older woman was shooting her.

Oh crap.

Turning back towards her slightly confused patient, Kagome adapted a cheery smile and clapping her hands together.

“Well, I believe that’s enough for now! Why don’t you go and get some rest, dear, and then we’ll get up bright and early tomorrow to take you home! That sound good?” the woman asked, her tone motherly and upbeat.

The girl nodded, getting up and taking a few steps towards one of the beddings close by. Before she got there though, the young brunette turned her head to look back at her temporary caretakers.

“Miss Pretty Lady, Miss Demon Lady? Really, thank you for saving me. I was really scared,” the child thanked them for the hundredth time, her words more confident and assured.

Moroha’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, “Demon Lady?”

“Hey kid! We have names!” the spell-casting quarter-demon exclaimed, aggravated. 

“Moroha!” Kagome scolded, her message clear.

Don’t dig yourself deeper into the hole you're already in, missy.

Understanding the silent threat, said ‘missy’ gulped and shut her mouth, not daring to utter another word that could get her in even more trouble than she already was.

Huffing, Kagome once again smiled kindly towards the younger girl.

“Please excuse her, she can be a bit brash. She’s right though; we haven’t introduced ourselves yet, have we? My name’s Kagome Higurashi, and that troublemaker over there is my daughter, Moroha. What is your name?” she asked.

The girl, again, hesitated. Only for a split second, though, as she soon opened her mouth and answered.

“My name is Rin.”

Kagome nodded, standing up and leading her previously unnamed charge over to the bedding, a gentle hand on the small of the brunette girl’s back.

“Well Rin, it's late, and you must be exhausted, so go to sleep and we’ll get you up in the morning. I’m certain your family misses you terribly and won’t be too pleased if you come back to them dead-on-your-feet tired, now will they?” 

Rin shook her head as Kagome tucked her in. Unsurprisingly, the young girl was out within seconds, the craziness from the day catching up to her.

Once she was sure her charge was fast asleep, the spell-caster turned back to her nervous daughter, arms on her hips as she frowned at the teenager.

“Mama, I-” 

Kagome put a hand up, abruptly cutting off her child’s excuse before it could begin, “Come with me over here. Now.”

Moroha shivered at the serious, deadpanned tone. Her mother only used that tone when she was about to give her a tongue-lashing. No doubt about it, she was in trouble.

Deep trouble.

The mother and daughter pair strode over towards the treeline that surrounded their camp. It was far enough away to where they could talk in private and not disturb their sleeping guest, but close enough so that they could still see and check in on the child if any danger invaded their camp. 

Sighing and rubbing her temples, Kagome started, “Moroha, what were you thinking! I told you to not go any farther than you absolutely had to to deliver that medicine, and then you come back with bruises and scratches, blood on your clothes, and an injured child in your arms, telling me there was a mob riot in the village!? And that you used magic to eviscerate a demon’s arm!? Do you know what kind of danger you put yourself in!?” 

Moroha winced, trying to keep the bruises on her neck hidden from her mother’s sight. When she had burst through the treeline back into their camp, carrying Rin who’s arm wound was still sluggishly bleeding out onto her and her clothes, her mother took one look at the injured child and sprang into action, having to clean and then stitch up the wound before it could get infected. So focused on ensuring the child be taken care of, Kagome had only noticed in passing the light bruises and few scrapes on her own child’s arms and legs, but they were superficial and were already healing, so Kagome and Moroha paid them no mind. Not when they had a much more serious, much more human injury, to be taken care of. 

The demon girl was grateful that Kagome had been more focused on the human child as soon as she saw her. Otherwise, the dark, yellow and purple bruises on her neck from where the demon had a tight hold on her would have instantly been spotted on the older woman’s ‘Mom Radar’, as she liked to call it. 

Moroha hadn’t wanted to cause her mother any more worry, so as soon as she was sure Kagome was too preoccupied with the human child to pay any mind to her, Moroha had taken the scarf she wore around her neck and readjusted it to hide the bruises that were still there. With how tight the demon had clutched onto her, the bruises were quite nasty looking, and would take longer for her demonic healing to get rid of them completely. 

Of course, this act of secrecy equated to not telling her mother exactly why she’d had to eviscerate that demon’s arm with her magic. She still wasn’t so sure telling the truth about that was a good idea, but she had to say something!  

“He gave me no choice, Mama! I had to use magic!” the teen defended, hoping her mother wouldn’t press the issue from there.

“And why was that, Moroha? What did he do to make you blow your cover and the cloaking spell to destroy his arm using magic?” 

And of course, her mother pushed the issue.

“Uh…” was all that came out of her mouth, her mind running double-time to come up with a valid, but less severe explanation than what had actually happened.

Unfortunately, the world seemed to be out to get her that day. While Moroha fumbled, trying to make up a random excuse, Kagome had finally noticed the unusual way her daughter’s red scarf covered the quarter-demon’s neck, and had reached her hands out to remove the scarf.

“Wait! Mama, don’t-” Moroha panicked once she felt her mother’s hands moving the scarf.

“Moroha!!! What on Earth happened to your neck!?”

Too late.

Moroha winced when Kagome gently poked and prodded the darkened, abnormally large fingerprint marks on her neck. They weren’t as sore as they were hours ago, telling the inexperienced spell-caster that the healing process was already underway, but with how dark and severe the bruises were, it’d take longer for the bruises to completely vanish from her skin. 

Prying her mother’s hands away from her injured flesh, Moroha cringed even more at the panicked expression, as well as the unshed tears, that she could see in her eyes and face.

She hated making her mama look like that. 

“These were why I had to use magic; he had me by the neck,” Moroha swallowed, figuring there was no point in lying or trying to come up with another excuse anymore. 

The older magic-user stared at the marks that dared to mar her baby’s lightly tanned skin before pulling the demon girl tightly into her arms, embracing her most precious treasure like a life-line, her anger completely forgotten. 

Surprised at first, Moroha quickly regained her composure and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, embracing her just as tightly as the severity and exhaustion from the day finally caught up with her, and she buried her head into her mother’s shoulder as her small frame shook from her emotional turmoil.

For the first time in a long while, Moroha was desperate for her mother’s comfort.

She didn’t cry, but it finally hit Moroha just how much danger she put herself in that day, and how scared the whole ordeal made her, though she’d never admit it out loud.

Even so, the partial-demon couldn’t find it within herself to regret stepping in to help a child in need, and she expressed that sentiment to her mother, her voice muffled slightly from her face still being buried in her mama’s shoulder. 

Kagome sighed and pulled herself and her daughter out of each other’s arms, though she still had a grip on the much more petite girl’s shoulders. Her face was resigned, but understanding as she addressed Moroha.

“I understand, sweetheart, and I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were you. But I’m your mother, and I just worry for you is all. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you did what you thought was right, but I just can’t help it; I want you to be safe. You’ll understand one day when your a mother,”

Kagome grinned when Moroha blushed at the last part.

Moroha coughed awkwardly, shuffling her feet as she looked away from her mother’s grinning face, and Kagome had to stifle a giggle at just how familiar Moroha’s countenance was.

“She’s truly her father’s daughter, that’s for sure…”

“So, um...are we good?” Moroha asked, nervous despite herself.

Taking pity on her poor child, Kagome smiled and looped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder as they walked back away from the trees and led her to their own beddings for the night.

“Yup, we’re good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wished to speak with me, Father?” InuYasha asked, bowing respectfully before the Emperor and the rest of his family.

The second he entered the room, InuYasha sensed the tension in the air. His family all had grim expressions upon their faces, save for his mother who had a clearly worried look upon her soft features.

The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach only intensified when he noticed Sesshomaru and his twin daughters clenching their clawed hands into fists, enough to draw rivlets of blood from all three of them. Sesshomaru’s eyes were also bleeding a light pink, telling InuYasha that whatever the issue was, it was enough to rile up the normally stoic demon lord that he was holding back from transforming.

But the most telling, and ultimately the most concerning, indicator was the absence of his young, cheerful adoptive niece. 

InuYasha’s mouth went dry.

“Where’s Rin?” he asked, fear creeping into his heart.

“Missing,” his father simply stated.

A reverberating growl from the Emperor's eldest son rent the air in the room at the word.

“We need you, Sestuna, and Kouga to go and search for her; try to scent her out,” Touga continued, his tone authoritative and resolute like the leader he was.

InuYasha, stone-faced, kneeled on one knee before his father and family, head bowed as he addressed them.

“I will not rest until she is found and safe, Your Highness.” the half-demon general vowed, determination clear in his voice.

The current Emperor and Inu no Taisho nodded, eyeing his Setsuna imploringly. Catching her grandfather’s gaze, the half-demon princess nodded back and stood up, taking her naginata with her as she stepped off the raised platform to her uncle’s side.

“I have already sent a messenger to retrieve Kouga; he will meet you at the front gate. Now go,” the Emperor commanded firmly, to which both general and princess nodded sagely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “InuYasha!”

InuYasha and Setsuna turned at the call, seeing his half-brother striding up to him with a serious glare.

“Father, what is it?” Setsuna asked, her tone deadpanned like her father’s often was. 

The future Emperor stopped before his daughter and brother, his gaze steady but no less imposing.

“I urge you, little brother, to not be your stupid, impulsive self with this matter. It does, afterall, concern my daughter,”

Normally, such a reminder would cause InuYasha to roll his eyes and respond with a smartass retort.

But this time, InuYasha knew the severity of the situation, and he could easily spot the worry in his half-brother’s golden eyes.

They were the eyes of a father, worried for the whereabouts of his child.

Something InuYasha was sure he was never going to experience.

He nodded, his face grave and resolute.

“You have my word, Sesshomaru, that I will find your daughter and bring her home,” 

The young lord glanced over at Setsuna, his niece catching his gaze.

“Both of them,” InuYasha concluded.

The older demon stared down at his brother, as though assessing the half-demon’s sincerity of his promise, before giving a single nod of acceptance.

With that, the two half-demons turned and made their way to the front gate, set and determined to bring back their loved one.

To be Continued....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it! 

Tagging: @misteria247 @loveanime89 @xfangheartx @keichanz @holi-holy @jgomz92 @lostinfantasyworlds @born-for-eachother @littlestuffstohide @nat-the-cat-123 @cnderpaws @mymidnightnightmare @butterflyhufflepuff @bluehawaiicat @pinkweirdsunsets @sangoslays @disneysooner @blairex @shinidamachu @thisisthebesticando @squeep123 @redflamesofpassion @lavendertwilight89 @sailorbabydoll92

Let me know if I missed anybody or you want to jump on the tag train for any of my InuYasha fanfictions!

[firebird-inkheart]

A Child’s Understanding p.2

(Please check previous post for warnings)

{Previous}

The afternoon sunlight blinded him the moment he stepped outside. Ace flinched, squinting even as he turned his head. Behind him the strangers’ mocking laughter echoed harshly in his ears. His palms ached where his nails bit in deep; his skin was tough and calloused, yet in that instant it threatened to split apart and let his frozen blood flow freely.

‘Cursed blood,’ came the bitter reminder. ‘Devil’s, demon’s. Poisoned, unclean, festering―’

He jumped as the hands clamped on his shoulders squeezed hard. The pressure banished the loud and hateful voices to the back of his mind where they could only murmur their loathing messages. Ace let out a shaky breath.

“They’re wrong,” Sabo said sternly. “That’s the one thing that will never be true, alright.”

It wasn’t a question, but a demand that beget the acceptance of fact.

“... Yeah.”

But he had heard so many other ‘facts’ which were contrary to his brother’s that it made it hard to be convinced, let alone sound convincing. Sabo sighed and let his hands slide away. Before he could really register the missing presence of their weight an arm wrapped around his shoulders. They walked down the steps to put a little more distance between them and the Yew. The obnoxious voices grew just a little quieter.

“Remind me again, what was it Chante told you, exactly?”

He scowled and shot him a look; seriously, why was he asking? Sabo knew damn well everything Chante had told him. They all got the same lectures when Chante deemed it seriously important.

A thin eyebrow rose back in challenge.

“I can parrot what she said until I’m blue in the face but it won’t have the same effect as you saying it for yourself.”

Ace bit down on his cheek and stared at his feet. Chante often sat down with him to simply talk about things no one had bothered to talk with him about before. Things like his feelings and stern but strangely gentle reprimands for his behavior. About who he really was. The blacksmith was full of many profound thoughts, with perspectives he’d never once considered before. Her strong voice, the voice he had gradually come to see as, well, not exactly a motherly one― Ace wasn’t quite sure how he felt about putting that label on anyone in relation to himself ―but someone he could respect enough to rely on, floated through his mind.

“The navy’s sense of justice is and always has been dictated by what the World Government is afraid of. And the government is afraid of everything that doesn’t immediately bow and grovel at its feet,” she had said. “That fear has turned you into a casualty as a result and for that I am so, so sorry. But there’s something I want you to know so listen to me very carefully…”

“My worth is not defined by the judgement of anyone.” 

Sabo leaned in a little closer, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite hear you there.”

Ace looked up, though not without glaring, each word cutting on his tongue as he tried to cement some belief into them. “My worth is not defined by the judgement of anyone.”

He pumped his arm and Sabo joined him in agreement. “Your worth is not for anyone but yourself to determine!” He grinned, flashing his gapless glory. “But it sure helps to know there are people that value you all the same. Right Hon?”

There was no reply.

“Honyo?”

Cacophonic; the sound of glass shattering against something solid and heavy rang through the air, immediately followed by an uproar of deep swears and shouts and one utterly unholy shriek. The boys jolted, running back into the Yew, nearly tearing the doors from their hinges as they bulldozed their way through. 

Aya had dropped several dishes to reach for the nearest man and strong arm him into submission; the knife he had been reaching for clattered harmlessly to the ground. One of the strangers, gangly as he was, turned on the barmaid only to find his face pinned to the ground by the foot of one of the cooks that had come out to investigate the commotion. The others surrounded a manic, snarling, green haired little girl brandishing a broken bottle.

Two of the men lunged at Honyo and she jumped, tossing herself at the man with the bowler hat. The men collided in a heap and bowler hat guy screamed. The man’s hat went flying as Honyo repeatedly bludgeoned him with her crude weapon and the man himself fell back in his chair, sending them both crashing to the floor. 

“TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK, TAKE IT BACK, TAKE IT BACK!”

The man with the large bow tie loomed over the screaming girl and struck, grabbing a fistful of hair― the little pompoms that held some of her hair up snapped from the force ―and wrenched. Hard.

Her head hit the table with a solid thunk!

The blood in his veins was all but screaming in his reeling mind as the last couple seconds finally caught up to him.

Bowtie man huffed. “That oughta teach you to settle do―”

“Get your filthy hands off her!”

He pitched forward as the boys barreled into him, their roars fierce and wild enough to compete with the Tiger Lord himself. Ace slammed a fist into the bastard’s head once, twice. Each hit was so powerful that his face bounced off the floor, leaving dark smears across the wooden surface. Bowtie man groaned and turned to jelly under his legs.

Sabo had rolled off the man and reached for Honyo as she picked herself up. She wiped the back of her shaking hand across her forehead― he saw red and his knuckles cracked loudly ―blue eyes shiny with fresh tears of pain and unadulterated fury. She readjusted her grip on the bottle. Sabo had barely wrapped his hand around her arm when she lunged.

A glint of light. A flash of silver. Ace didn’t have time to fully register everything as he leapt up, wrapping his arms around Honyo’s waist, and pulled her back. 

The knife in Bowler hat guy’s hand slashed through empty air, harmless.

“Take it back!” Honyo screamed again. “Take back what you said right now!”

“What the hell is your problem you little menace?!” Bowler hat shook harder than a leaf in an autumn breeze, brandishing his little knife in one hand while the other held a stained kerchief to a nasty looking gash on his balding head.

He could feel his grip slipping as Honyo struggled to reach out and keep attacking the stranger, her face alight with fire and fury. Sabo slipped his arms under hers and received an elbow to his face for his efforts. With a grunt the two managed to pull her back a couple more steps.

There was a long running understanding that pissing off a Roronoa was like inviting a storm into your house when you were better off leaving the door shut. But in that moment the only thing Ace could think as he and Sabo struggled to hold Honyo back, was that this was nothing short of a testament to the little girl’s strength.

“Us kids aren’t as stupid as you think we are!” she growled. “Adults like you that go runnin’ your mouths are the worst! You can’t just say another kid should die just because of who their parents are— It’s wrong and you better take it back now!”

His heart flew up into his throat and locked the air out. She had started a brawl because of― Because of that? Ace had never told Honyo about who his father was. He’d been too scared, was absolutely terrified right now, of the idea of her knowing and… and hating him. And yet… And yet she―

Bowler hat guy couldn’t seem to believe that all this ruckus had been because of his careless words either, his mouth hitting the floor for one short moment before incredulous chuckles filled the air.

“And what would a sniveling little girl like you know about what’s right and wrong? Don’t you know about the things that devil Roger did? Any kid of his would be just as bad― no, worse ―and shouldn’t be allowed so much as an inch of life!”

Ace ducked his head, twisting the fabric of Honyo’s shirt around his fists. Sharp eyes flickered down and back at the man, nostrils flaring. Pulling her arm back as far as she could get it with Sabo holding onto her, Honyo flung the rest of her weapon at the man and beaned him square in the forehead.

“Existing isn’t a crime you thick skulled bigot! It never has been and it never will be!”

His heart was being squeezed to death and filled to the brim with warmth all at once. It was too much. Dark eyes flickered up, startled.

“Existence isn’t a crime! Being born and living isn’t a crime! What should be a crime is people like you that go around saying children should die just because you’re chicken shit scared of their parents!”

A collective gasp raced around the room. Ace found it difficult to pry his eyes away from Honyo. For such a small kid she looked so big just then. She was rage and passion, a thin trail of dried blood smeared down her face from a small, bruising cut on her temple, and the shine in her eyes had finally broken free. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and dribbled off her chin. One fell onto his face.

‘She’s crying for… me?’

“That’s― That’s treason!” Bowler hat raved. “Treason against the World Government―”

And didn’t that seem to be the root of so many problems in this world. What a fool to admit his flawed thoughts stemmed from them.

The doors creaked, soft footsteps treading across the floor.

“I’ll have you reported! You hear me, I’ll―”

The presence that washed over him was familiar and warm. Often it reminded him of summer days spent lounging in the grass beneath the sun, where gentle winds would tease at stray strands of his hair and he would nap, content. But underneath all that was the warning of a blade that did not reveal itself for idle reasons. And it was being dangerously provoked at that moment.

“Now, what’s going on here?” Cheerful as always, as if he couldn’t bother with being serious; Ace had never felt more relieved to hear that voice.

“Poppop!” Honyo yelped, the same time the boys squawked, “Shin!”

Roronoa Shin came to a stop a few steps away from the disaster zone they all occupied, dusty blue eyes wandering over everything with faint curiosity. Absently he carded his fingers through his light hair and messed it up even more than it already was. 

When Ace had first met Shin he’d thought the man was a clumsy dope and wasn’t good for much despite his broad build.

That was one mistake he had been careful to never make again.

A small frown tugged at his lips. Shin shuffled closer to the odd formation of children― Honyo had stopped struggling now but there was still a feral glint in her tear filled eyes ―reaching out to gingerly cup his daughter’s face and examine her cut.

“So.” His voice was soft, a small, frightening smile replacing the frown. “Which one of you upstanding looking gentlemen hurt my baby bean?”

“That hellion is your brat?” Bowler hat was sweating bullets even as he blustered through with false bravado. “We were minding our own business when she attacked out of nowhere and for no good reason! If you think―”

Honyo surged forward causing Ace and Sabo to fall on top of her in surprise. “Liar! Liar, liar, liar, liar! You said a kid should die if their parent was a criminal and you still haven’t taken it back!”

Shin’s eyes twitched. He looked from his daughter to the man quaking in his just a little too nice boots. “My bean doesn’t start fights for no good reason. And that sounded like a damn good reason to me.”

Without looking back he said, “Why don’t you three head outside and wait just a minute for me, m’kay? I’ll take care of things from here.”

The blade had revealed itself and was baring its fang with a dangerous glimmer. Ace and Sabo scrambled to their feet, neither letting go of Honyo this time as they hauled her up, and made an immediate beeline for the doors.

Pleasant as ever, Shin returned his attention to the men, waving to Aya and the cook as if he was simply stopping by to talk as he usually did. They backed off, trading knowing looks. To the group of strangers, though, the smile he graced them with was as biting as ice.

“Now, let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

[atombombbibunny]

The Diary

Summary: Of course Aziraphale keeps a diary

Crowley x Aziraphale

Word Count: 1924

Warnings: none, fluff

-------

Aziraphale kept a diary, of course he did. How could you expect someone who loved the art of literature and not expect him to write something down? He lived an exciting enough life that it would be something any human would be tempted to read. Or any Demon.

Aziraphale was in the back, making tea and Crowley only happened to glance at the desk. He had never seen this book on the Angel’s desk before, usually he was re-reading Shakespeare or researching something he could easily look up online. Crowley’s fingers gently brushed the spin of the diary, it was calling out his name as if some sort of spell was cast upon it. Temptation was his specialty. His fingers moved past the sine and over the leather engraved initials. A.Z Fell. A slight sound from the back room caused Crowley to jump causing the book to land in his hands, his heart beat was rapid as his pushed the book into the back of his jeans, underneath his leather jacket.

“Crowley, my dear fellow. Would you be so kind as to help me?” He Angel asked coming out from the back, a trembling silver tray in hand, a box sat at the side causing an unbalance. Crowley swayed over and picked the box off. “What in go-sata-whoever’s name is this?” He asked showing the Angel the box like he wasn’t the one to bring them out in the first place. “What? They were new in the shop, I thought we could try them with tea.” Crowley scowled at the cardboard, completely forgetting about the hard book pressing against his back. “Hot cocoa cookies?” He hissed in disgust reading the label aloud, not even biscuits, but cookies?

“Oh, stop being so picky.” Aziraphale said with slight sass in his voice, he finally set the tray to the table and was began pouring the tea. “Come sit.” He nodded towards Crowley’s usual sitting spot. “Eh.” Crowley said tossing the box on the couch. “Sounds lovely Angel, but I must run.” Aziraphale’s head shot up, confusion plaguing his face. “You came here though? Demanded this tea!” He said hands showcasing the patter in front of him. “Look if they disgust you that much, I’ll put them back.” He began reaching for the box of cookies. “Really, no its not about them. I just.” He scratched at his head attempting to find a way out of the store with the book still tucked in his waistband. “I forgot about this order I received, really must get to it.” He began to back towards the door, attempting to walk as normal as he possibly could. “Are you sure you’re quite alright dear? You’re walking stranger than usual.”

Crowley lifted his arms “Stranger? Nah, just a snake with hips.” He reached behind him to pull the door open. “I’ll see you around then!” He quickly turned to make it impossible for the angle to see anything out of the norm.

The second he was around the corner of the bookshelf Crowley pushed himself against a wall and sighed, like he had just gotten away with armed robbery. He pulled the leather-bound book from his waist and held it close.

How can a book smell of the Angel?

  Crowley paced in front of his desk multiple times.

“Would you stop looking at me like that? I had to!” He said motioning to himself. “Hello? Demon here!”

He shouted at the inanimate object. He finally stopped moving and sat in his luxurious chair, he picked up the book carefully like it would crumble to dust. Then he slammed it back down on the concrete surface. “Oh, blood hell, its not like he’ll know!” He shouted at nothing, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging the bridge of his nose.

He let out a loud sigh, his eyes still shut he picked it up once more and chose a random page. His eyes slowly opened and the first few words had his eyes open wide.

Could it be simple infatuation? Or is it love? I think it may be love…

For the first time in his life Crowley sat up in his chair and thoroughly read a book, front to back and twice over.

He did not sleep that night.

  The next morning, he starred at the book and snapped his fingers, the book disappearing from thin air. He pulled his jacket on, shoving his hands into his pocket he made his way over to Aziraphale’s.

The ding of the bell had the curly white-haired man pop his head out from the back, a wide smile spread to his face. “Good morning dear, finish your business?” He asked coming out to the store. Crowley scanned the room and saw a few stray pages on the floor, usually (other than the book organization) the place was spotless, it took the Angel not effort the keep the shop clean.

“Erm, yeh.” He said more quietly than he’d like to admit. “Well then!” announced Aziraphale. “How about that tea then?” His face was shining, and Crowley couldn’t help but feel the warmth coming from him. “Sure” he said a slight smile coming from his tight thin lips. The Angel nodded as he headed to the back. Crowley sat like a rock in his usual spot and ran his fingers through his hair, he pulled the frames from his face and threw them on the table.

He heard the noise of the kettle being brought out as well a tea cups, then utter silence.

“Um, Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice was muffled from the back room. “Yep?” Crowley asked back refusing to move. Aziraphale appeared from the back with a book in his grip.

“All night last night I was tearing my shop apart looking for this, and now suddenly it has appeared in my tea cupboard.” He flashed the book towards Crowley, it was of course none other than the diary.

“Mm. Interesting.” The Demon said unable to make eye contact. Aziraphale made his was to Crowley and sat beside him. “You took it didn’t you!” He accused. Crowley had to pull out his best acting skills he untangled his legs and grasped the back of the couch. “What!? Are you mad? You must have just placed it there! You know you misplace things all the time! The fact that you are accusing me simply because I’m a Demon is preposterous!” Aziraphale looked at the diary then back to the Demon. “Well, I know that’s simply not true as it was on my desk when you were here last night.” A whole second went by. “And I am not accusing you because you’re a Demon, I am accusing you because you are Crowley!” He said in a sudden defense.

“True.” Crowley said sticking his lips out, buying time to come up with an excuse. “Y-you read it! You utter bastard!” Aziraphale shouted standing from his position. “Ah! Yes, alright you caught me!” Crowley said also standing towering over the Angel. “Front and back and twice!” He yelled.

The Angel backed from him. “That is a total disregard for my privacy, good sir!” He clung the book to his chest, his cheeks turning red from either anger or embarrassment, or both.  

“Well maybe if you didn’t leave the bloody thing out in the open, I wouldn’t have taken it!” Crowley said attempting to shift the blame. “I have the right to have private things in my own shop! There are some things in here I never wanted anyone to read!!” He crossed his arms over his chest still gripping the book. “Oh, like being in love!?” Crowley shouted louder than he had ever shouted at the Angel. Aziraphale stuttered and backed further away from the Demon. “What?” He asked the red covering his whole face.

The kettle was screeching in the back and Aziraphale dashed to the back room to pull it from the heater. Crowley dropped to the couch, he hid his face in his hands and onto his knees. He sighed attempting to calm himself, he shouldn’t be the one shouting at him, he should be the one being scolded, he took the book after all.

He heard the gentle footsteps approach him. “What do you mean, in love?” The question came soft and Crowley couldn’t help but feel guilt fill his body. He leaned back up and watched the Angel take a seat next to him once more.

“In the diary, you said you were in love, with a being at some point.” Aziraphale’s face filled with a mix of fear and confusion as he opened the book as quickly scanned the pages, his face softened when he reached the aforementioned entry.  

“My dear.” He said patting Crowley’s hand. He held out the book as if it were poetry. “Could it be simple infatuation, or love? I think its love.” He recited. Crowley glanced at him wishing his shades were on his face. “Yeh.” He muttered. “I THINK its love.” Repeated the Angel, he closed the diary and watched Crowley. “I was but a young Angel then, he was simply the first being to give me any sort of attention. Lord knows I was in need of it.” Aziraphale’s voice quieted at the end of his sentence Crowley’s body became numb, he never pieced the date and the entry together.  05-25-1940. “Oh, Aziraphale-“He began but was cut off by the rambling Angel. “It was just before Winston Churchill would come into the government, and I met his lad at a rally.” The Angel shook his head, his eyes glossing over with tears. “He-he reminded me of someone, someone I was missing dearly.” Aziraphale lifted his eyes to meet Crowley’s whose were wide, the gold covered any white, the black slits bigger than normal to take in all that was in front of him.

“Angel, I didn’t-“Aziraphale let out a small laugh. “No, how could you. I was foolish enough to believe it was love. I had to watch as he left for the war. I had to watch another person special to me leave all over again.” He played with his fingers curling them into tangled fists, this time to be interrupted by the Demon’s hands taking both of his fists in his untangling the tight twists they where in.

“After that I was recruited by the double agent. Well, you know the rest my dear boy.” He enjoyed the feeling of Crowley’s fingers brushing over his, the were slender yet soft. Crowley put his head against the shaking Angels forehead. “What a fool.” He muttered. “What a foolish solider, he never knew what he was leaving behind.” A hand slipped from Crowley’s hold and on to his face. “But you, you came back to me.” Their eyes met once more before Crowley’s eyes focused solely on his lips, full and pink.

A quick brush over them before they met with full force, Aziraphale’s hand stayed stead on the Demon’s cheek as he pulled him closer. Crowley couldn’t help but crawl over top the Angel, his mouth and tongue devouring at the Angel, he fantasized about how sweet the Angel would taste. But all the fantasizing in the world could not prepare him for this moment, for this taste. He pulled away and opened his eyes to see Aziraphale’s watching his.

“Crowley.” He whispered, the Demon nodded against his hot skin. “I know this time, it is love.” He was enveloped into another longing kiss as Crowley muttered against his lips. “As do I Angel.”